Web of Lurve
by Empress Dots
Summary: Things are getting interesting in Eliwood's army. Eliwood loves Lyn, but she loves Hector, who loves Farina, who loves... and it goes on. What horrors can this romance inflict upon the army? [pairings of all kinds] Ch.2: Sain is being himself, as usual.
1. A Normal Day in the Camp

**Do not own Fire Emblem 7.**

**Author's Notes:** The only thing you really need to know is that the setting/timeframe of this fic is really undefined. Think of it however you like.

**Warnings: **Parody. Slash. Femmeslash. Het. More pairings than you can shake a stick at.

-

Like any other army whose members were mostly under thirty and unmarried, the vast majority of Eliwood's legion thought of little more than battle and hormones—and more often the latter than the former.

Not that Pent understood it; then again, he had been married for some time now, and all his hormones had been dedicated to the worship of Louise, his wife.

Today had been no different from any other day. Not only had Pent seen Sain flirting with at least three or four women so far; Serra had been doing the same with various men, and Pent had watched as Guy and Florina tried to approach their respective crushes, both of the two blushing and stammering as they did. Pent suspected that if things didn't cool down, there would be marriage proposals and the like fairly soon.

In fact, unless he was mistaken, that was Bartre on bended knee before Karla—

He blinked and decided it best not to think about that. If they were getting married, he feared that others would follow all too quickly.

"Ho, Lord Pent!"

"Well met, Sain," Pent said as Sain rode up beside him. "How goes the day?"

"Quite well, my Lord," Sain said, wearing the dashing smile he usually reserved for flirting. "And you?"

"Fine, fine," Pent replied. He didn't know Sain too well, but he seemed nice enough. He had overheard a conversation between Sain and Kent some time ago, however, and anything to serve as conversation material was welcome.

"I hear you wish to command the knights of Caelin, Sain. Is that so?" Pent asked.

"Yes, Lord Pent. Currently, Kent is their leader, but someday I would like to take over for him."

"Any specific reason why?" Pent asked, flipping his ponytail over his shoulder.

The smile faded from Sain's face, and he thought for a moment before replying in a serious tone. "Because I want to require every female member of the knights to wear a mini-skirt when on duty."

There was a pause, during which Pent tried not to let his jaw drop. He succeeded in that affair, but his eyebrows were harder to keep control of. He could feel them rising.

"Right," he said, and decided that now was a good time to change the subject. "What's that on your saddle?"

"Oh, this?" Sain shifted and glanced at the small stone pin. "Merely a trinket I picked up in town. Nothing you should be concerned with, Your Lordship."

"What does it say?" Pent asked, squinting as he tried to make out the words.

"Erm . . . 'Make love, not war,' actually." Sain turned a bit pink, which startled Pent more than a bit—Sain had never been the blushing type. He still wasn't quite as startled by the blush, however, as he was by the slogan on the pin.

"Oh," he said, and feigned a smile. "I . . . I think maybe I'll go have a chat with Kent now." With that, he turned around and started walking off rather quickly.

"Um, you're not going to tell Kent about this, are you . . . ? Lord Pent?" Sain called after him. "You know I was only joking about the mini-skirts, right, Lord Pent?"

Pent ignored Sain and hurried on. Frankly, whether he was joking or not was of little importance; Pent still didn't like it. Kent would be far more sensible.

At least, Pent hoped he would.

It wasn't long before he found Kent tending to his horse on the outskirts of the legion's camp.

"Well met, Kent!" he called.

"Well met, Lord Pent!" Kent called in reply. "How goes the day?"

Pent decided that it would be best not to tell the truth in response to that question. Sain's pin and the thought of soldiers in mini-skirts still loomed in his mind.

"Erm, well," he said. "And you?"

"As well as can be hoped, I suppose," Kent replied, gazing at something over Pent's shoulder.

Pent followed Kent's stare to see Lyn chatting with Hector near the tactician's tent. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was there _anyone_ in this army that hadn't been love-struck yet?

"Seems you're busy," Pent said as he started to walk away. "I suppose I'll just talk to you later."

"Did you need to talk about something, Lord Pent?" Kent asked, blinking himself out of his daze.

"No," Pent replied as he kept walking. "Don't worry about it."

_This is just ridiculous,_ he thought. _Everyone in the whole blasted army's been smitten. _

He kicked a few pebbles out of frustration, his mouth curling into a snarl. Pent did not snarl much, but when he did, it meant you had _better_ get out of his way lest he "accidentally" throw his Elfire tome at you.

He didn't have a tome with him at the moment, however, and the whole army seemed to sense that because no one fell silent in wonder and fear as he passed by.

That made him snarl even more, which made him wish he had a tome with him, which made him snarl even more. Why not? After all, maybe if he snarled enough, then the rest of the army would decide that his glare alone was threat enough and just shut up and/or stop making out in broad daylight.

Unfortunately, it did not work.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a blushing Guy attempting to talk to Priscilla, while a Lucius spoke with them as well. His words seemed to be turning Priscilla red, and Priscilla's words made Guy's blush all the worse. Priscilla muttered something and fled, leaving Guy calling out after her, and Lucius looking fairly startled as she ran off.

Pent turned to watch what unfolded next; Guy stammered something, then turned to Lucius and drew his sword.

Even from his distance away, Pent could hear Guy's yell of "L-look, I don't want to have to-to fight you, but, uh . . . stay away from Lady Priscilla, you got it?"

Lucius raised his eyebrows and said something in reply. Guy was visibly relieved, and sheathed his sword.

With that, Lucius caught sight of Pent watching them, and called out to him. "Lord Pent! Did you happen to see where Lady Priscilla has gone?"

"No, why?" Pent asked as Lucius came up to him in a lopsided run.

"Well, she seemed so . . ." Lucius searched for a word and came up fruitless, "so I wanted to make sure that I did not offend her. If you see her, would you tell her I am looking for her?"

"Of course," Pent said, avoiding the temptation to burst into laughter over the fact that neither Lucius nor Guy seemed to have any idea of what was going on. "In fact, I'll go look for her right now, how does that sound?"

Lucius looked relieved. "Oh, would you? I can't imagine how upset Lord Raven would be if she was to get hurt, and I don't like for Lord Raven to be upset."

"I would imagine not," Pent said. "No worries, I'm sure she'll be fine. I'll look for her and tell her you want to speak with her."

Lucius bowed. "Thank you so much, Lord Pent!"

He turned and walked off in the direction of the main camp.

Pent checked carefully to make sure that no one was within earshot before he burst into laughter. He spent several minutes doing little more than laughing his head off, doubling over as he did so.

Eventually, he calmed down a bit, but his sides ached from laughing so hard.

Apparently, not only was the whole of the army smitten, but not a single one of them had a clue as to what was going on.

But, he may as well uphold his promise, he decided as he wiped his eyes—he had laughed himself to tears, it seemed. He should honor Lucius' request and go find Priscilla.

So, he set off in the direction Priscilla had been running, feeling fairly sure that he would find her somewhere with Raven, completely unharmed and still-blushing.

It was then that he stumbled upon Erk, dressed in something Pent had never seen the like of before. He took a few moments to stare, hoping that those . . . _ridiculous_ clothes had nothing to do with whatever was affecting the rest of the army.

Deep in his heart, he already knew that his hopes were futile, but he wanted to hope anyway. The thought that even Erk was falling in whatever this was—it couldn't be love, Pent hoped—scared him, to be frank.

"Ehem . . . excuse me? Erk?"

Erk turned around, that . . . thing he was wearing whirling out in a flash of fur. "Oh, Lord Pent!"

It was not the fur coat that bothered him, Pent decided; he had seen nobles wear more ridiculous things. Nor was it the staff Erk held in one hand, though it did seem to be a slightly different staff than most that Pent had seen. He decided to ask Erk about it later.

He wasn't even bothered by the immense amount of rings that Erk was wearing at the moment, to his own shock.

No, what bothered him was that awful purple hat. There was some kind of feather set in the brim; Pent wondered if Erk had been plucking Florina's pegasus.

And what bothered him even more was the fact that Serra was hanging off Erk's arm, and Erk wasn't doing anything about it. His eye wasn't even twitching.

"Erk . . . what in the _world_ are you wearing?"

"Oh, this?" Erk performed a twirl, Serra still clinging to his arm the whole time. Pent cringed at the sight of the fur coat swirling in the air. "Well, Sir Sain suggested it, actually. . . ."

"He . . . didn't slip something in your food, did he?" Pent asked, trying not to wince at how uncharacteristically cheerful Erk was being. The sight of Serra, still hanging off Erk's arm, didn't help any.

Erk blinked. "Huh? No, I don't think so . . ." He gestured behind him, at a spot where Pent couldn't quite see. "It's just that Lady Priscilla is here, and, well . . ." he grinned and turned red.

This, Pent decided, was not good news. Sure, he was happy for Erk liking Priscilla, but he was still being unusually bright. And Pent knew (from hard-earned experience) that love would never change the underlying aspects of a person.

Of course, that was a good thing for him, since it meant that Louise would never stop being kind, sweet, and utterly devoted to him.

Pent took a step forward. "And . . . um . . . you _do_ realize that Serra is currently clinging to you like a drowning woman to a rock?"

"Yes, isn't it great?" Erk asked, wearing a large grin.

Now Pent was positive; _someone_ had slipped Erk _some_ kind of drug. Erk Did Not Smile And That Was How Things Were. For heaven's sake, even _Raven_ smiled more than Erk did.

"Here, Priscilla, come over here," Erk said, turning and offering an arm. Priscilla walked over, very slowly, and seemed as unnerved by Erk's Behavior (the capital B was necessary, Pent thought, for describing his feelings of confusion) as Pent himself was.

"Lucius was looking for you, Priscilla," Pent said. "I think he was afraid that he'd offended you."

"He was looking for me?" Priscilla asked, and turned red.

"Go ahead after him!" Serra said, grinning. Pent sighed in relief; at least Serra still seemed to be herself. "That way, I'll have Erky all to myself!" She removed her arms from Erk's arm and wrapped them around his neck.

Pent was incredibly relieved to see Erk's eye twitch return. "Don't call me Erky," he said in some semblance of his normal voice.

"Um, no offense meant, Lady Serra," Priscilla stammered, "but . . . Sir Erk hates you."

Serra's face went as sour as old milk. "Don't you say that to me, you little whore! Erky loves me with all his heart!"

"Don't call me Erky!"

"What did you just call me?" Priscilla said, and Pent sensed that this was the calm before the storm.

"A little whore," Serra repeated. "Face it, honey, you are. I mean, you have Guy, Lucius, Erky, Sain, and even your own brother all fawning over you. That just speaks volumes about your character, don't you think?"

Priscilla said nothing, but Pent could practically see her anger brewing into a storm at the back of her head as she nonchalantly reached for her Fire tome.

"Besides," Serra continued, twining her arms tighter around Erk's neck, "Erky doesn't deserve a second-class woman like you. He deserves only the best, and the best is me."

That did it. Priscilla drew out her Fire tome in a flash, and lunged at Serra with fire glowing in her hand. Serra yelped and leapt out of the way, causing Priscilla to land on top of Erk.

"L-lady Priscilla," Erk said, turning red again. He said nothing more, which Pent took as a sign that he was returning to (semi)normal.

_"Get off of him!"_ Serra shrieked before leaping at Priscilla and Erk. There was an ensuing cloud of dust, which Pent watched with some twisted form of amusement.

"My Lord Pent, so this is where you've been."

"Ah, Louise!" Pent turned around, a smile on his face as he greeted his wife.

"What are you doing, my Lord?"

"Taking a good look around at the army," Pent said. "They've all been lovestruck, Louise. I've absolute confidence that I was not like this at all when I was their age."

He was fairly startled when Louise laughed. She was not the type to go into hysterical laughter as he had earlier, but her small chuckle was still enough to unnerve him.

"My dear, dear Lord Pent," she said, smiling, "I'm afraid your memory is not as good as you think."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"Lord Pent . . ." She reached down and took his hand, gave him the prettiest smile she could, and then pointed in one direction with her free arm. "When you were young, you were just like him."

Pent followed her point, and then visibly winced.

She was pointing directly at Sain.

"Surely you jest!"

She had that mischievous shine in her eye. "My Lord Pent, who was it that invited all those ladies to his estate so he could find one to marry?"

"But I . . . I . . ."

"In fact, I wonder whether I should not still be worried," Louise said. "After all, with so many beautiful girls in the army, you may have a mind to leave me and take one of them as your wife."

"You can't be serious!" Pent managed to say through choked breaths.

She smiled at him. "How may I be sure that you will not leave me, Lord Pent?"

If he had once been like Sain, he had to have some of that old charm left in him, and now was as good a time as any to use it, he decided.

So, he got onto one knee and pressed his lips to Louise's hand. He then looked up at her, giving her the closest thing to puppy eyes that he could manage without wanting to strangle himself.

"My dearest Louise, it is an honor to even be near you," he said, and he meant it. "Why would I go for any younger, lesser woman than the goddess you are?"

His compliments, honest as they were, had the intended effect; Louise's cheeks turned pink. "My sweet lord, it is I who am honored to be with you and carrying your child within me."

"I would never leave you, my sweet lady Louise," Pent said, kissing her hand again.

From some distance away, Sain watched the two with interest, then turned away. "Hey, Kent?"

"Yes, Sain?"

"You don't think that when I get married I'll be anything like . . . like them, do you?"

Kent glanced at Pent and Louise, who were still exchanging loving comments with each other. "One can only hope," he muttered.

"What did you say, Kent?"

"I said I don't know," Kent said quickly. "Come on, we've things to do and no time to waste." He hurried off toward the main camp.

"Hey . . . hey! Kent, wait up!" Sain ran after him.

((end chapter 1))


	2. A Matter of Love

**Chapter 2: A Matter of Love (Sain)**

**This chapter's parody:** Sain/Lucius conversations, Sain/Vaida conversations, and man-whore!Sain.

-

It was only nearing noon in the camp, and already Sain had scared Florina out of her wits with his advances, made Priscilla blush, been turned down by Rebecca, gotten some raised eyebrows from Isadora, and heard Louise chuckle when he attempted to flirt with her.

It was, all in all, a fairly good morning, he had decided.

He had yet to speak to Serra or Lady Lyndis, but he knew that with just a bit of flirting he could brighten their days considerably. After all, who wouldn't like to have the gallant Green Lance give them a smile, a wink, and a compliment? Surely no woman could resist!

"Sain, what are you doing _now_?"

"Ah, Kent! So nice to see you. How do you fare?"

"I asked what you were doing," Kent said, rolling his eyes. "Now answer my question."

"Why, Kent, I am merely preparing to be at my best when I chance upon the beautiful ladies of the troupe once again! One can never be too prepared when it comes to women, you know!"

Kent let out a sigh. "Yes, I do know. Your flirting, however, is not going to get you anywhere with them. Do you realize that, Sain?"

"Oh, Kent," Sain said, shaking his head and tutting softly. "Kent, Kent, Kent, when will you learn? If I don't try, then I'll never know if any of the ladies have feelings for me whatsoever!"

"Who says you'll ever find out anyway?" Kent asked.

"Speaking of ladies, Kent, we need to continue your lessons!" Sain rubbed his hands together.

Kent looked like he had just eaten something very unpleasant that was still slithering about in his throat. "Lessons?"

"You know, on how to win Lady Lyndis over!"

"Can we not talk about that right now?" Kent asked.

"Oh, but Kent! Anytime is a good time to talk about love! Surely you understand that!"

"No, I don't. Now leave me alone; I've an appointment to talk with Lady Fiora shortly."

Sain's eyes grew large. Yet another lady he had not yet complimented! What was he thinking, wasting a day by forgetting about her? Along with her lovely sister Farina, and the sword-wielding princess Karla, and even that young girl Nino—who admittedly was more cute than beautiful, but she still needed to know of her own fairness!

"May I come along?" Sain asked.

Kent narrowed his eyes, looked Sain up and down, and, clearly understanding exactly what Sain intended to do, said, "No."

"Oh, but Kent! Surely you will not deny the lovely ladies my company!"

"I'm not denying them anything, Sain. I'm merely saving them the trouble of having to deal with you yet again." With that, Kent turned and started walking away.

"The trouble? Having to _deal_ with me? Your words wound me, Kent!" Sain called after his red-armored friend.

Kent waved a hand and continued on his way.

Sain grumbled. "Why is it that Kent feels a need to keep all the ladies to himself? I mean, he has Lady Farina, Lady Fiora, Lady Lyndis . . . and several others, I'm sure, all falling over him!" He folded his arms and tried to scowl.

Scowling was not something he was used to. So it was not long before the scowl broke, giving way to his normal smile and what Kent had called a mischievous glint in his eyes.

How a glint in one's eye could be mischievous, Sain wasn't sure. Not that it was important, in any case.

He wandered off along the edge of the camp, searching for some lovely lady to woo that Kent hadn't already warned. He caught sight of Priscilla, still blushing over the heaps of praise he had showered on her. There was Isadora, struggling not to laugh as he passed by. And Lady Lyndis must have seen him coming, because all he saw of her was her back retreating into the woods.

Oh, there had to be some lady around who Kent hadn't corrupted the frail heart of! Surely some woman was nearby who was willing to hear him out, with all the praise he had to give!

That was when Sain caught sight of her.

She was easily the prettiest woman in the camp, with long blonde hair that reached her hips. A very dainty woman, it seemed; she was very skinny, and her beautiful blue eyes were trimmed with long eyelashes.

"Oh, my heart!" Sain cried, hurrying over to the woman. "What beauty is this, that makes it pound so?"

The woman looked startled, and opened her mouth to say something.

"Say nothing, my beauty, for your heavenly voice combined with your angelic face will strike me dead with heartache! How have I missed such a dainty flower in our troupe? Are you, perhaps, new to our cause?"

"No," the woman said, and Sain felt like swooning at the wondrous sound of her voice. "I have been here for quite some time—since the storming of Caelin, in fact."

That set alarm bells off in Sain's head. He had heard of the two new recruits—that perpetually angry redhead, Raven, and apparently someone who stayed so close to Raven that it was near-frightening. Sain had never dared to look for the other recruit, too worried of angering Raven and feeling the mercenary's wrath.

But who could have imagined that the mysterious recruit, whom he had never met, would have been such a marvelous, angelic being? He could not give this woman praise enough!

"Oh, wondrous angel!" he cried. "Forgive me for not having noticed you sooner! If only I could make my oversight up to you! Please, feel free to tell me anything I can do for you!"

The woman attempted to smile, but her cheeks were practically glistening pink. "You—you are Sir Sain, are you not?"

"You have heard of me? I am honored!" Sain said, dropping to one knee and pressing his lips against the woman's hand. "Now, if you would not mind, may I have your name?"

"I am Lucius . . ." the woman trailed off as Sain looked up at her.

"Lucius! What a beautiful name for an equally—no, a _more_ beautiful lady!"

"Sir Sain, I must protest. You seem to have mistaken me for someone else."

"I would never mistake you for anyone, o princess of heaven!"

"See, that's just it, Sir Sain . . . I am a monk of Saint Elimine."

"That changes nothing!"

"I don't think you understood me," Lucius sighed. "I am a _monk_, Sir Sain. Not a cleric, a monk."

There was a pause.

"You jest with me, kind Lucius!" Sain said with a laugh. "You must be male in order to be a monk!"

"Yes, that's my point, Sir Sain."

There was another pause.

"Well, regardless, Lucius, you are beautiful!"

Lucius sighed and smiled as he shook his head. "I suppose I must just thank you for the compliment and be on my way."

"Er, um . . . yes," Sain said, standing up. "I'll see you again?"

"Yes," Lucius said, and, with a smile far too kind for what Sain had just mistaken him as, turned and walked away.

It was taking all his willpower not to blush. He must be losing his touch, but Lucius seemed so very feminine.

"Sain," he said to himself, "you must be very desperate."

He was, of course, but that wasn't all too important right now.

He sped off toward the camp in search of a female to compliment. Surely there had to be one out there that he could speak to (preferably without making the same mistake he had made with Lucius—hopefully the camp held no other men who were quite as feminine).

"Sain, didn't I tell you to leave the ladies alone?"

"Why, if it isn't my friend Kent! And yes, I _have_ been leaving the ladies alone!" Sain said. After all, Lucius wasn't a lady, even if he had been mistaken as one . . .

"Why do I find that so hard to believe?" Kent asked, leaning against a tree and raising his eyebrows at Sain.

"I've not the slightest idea; I'm being totally honest!" Sain poked out his lower lip in an attempt to pout. "You are so absolutely horrid to me at times, Kent! Hoarding all the ladies for yourself."

Kent made a face and seemed to be choking on the air he had just inhaled. "I'm _what?"_

"You know, you have Lyn, Farina, and Fiora, I'm sure," Sain said. "And I'll bet you have even more than that, too! Care to share the wealth, Kent?"

Kent just stared at him.

"Oh, wait, I suppose you like your bed nice and warm," Sain added.

The face Kent made this time was priceless. Sain wished he could capture it on paper, but he was sure Kent would make it again eventually. He had a talent for making Kent make odd faces, after all.

"W-What?" Kent sputtered.

"You know exactly what I mean!" Sain said.

"Sain, I think you're confusing me with yourself again."

"Again? Come now, Kent, give me a bit of credit. It's just become clear that my wonderful personality and the lessons on love are beginning to make their imprints in your soul!" Sain flung out his arms and smiled.

"Firstly, Sain, your personality is far from 'wonderful.' Secondly, you haven't given me a single lesson on love or whatever it is you want to teach me about."

"Only because you haven't let me!" Sain pouted again.

"Sain, I don't mean to be rude, but frankly, I don't want to be anything like you," Kent said. "You're too carefree. Your flirting even on the battlefield is going to get you killed one of these days."

"That's not fair, Kent!" It _wasn't_ fair. He really tried to concentrate on the battle when he was in it! How was it his fault that there were so many beautiful ladies to distract him?

"Sain, be serious. I know as well as you do that, had she not hit you with Bolting before you had the chance, you would have flirted with Sonia."

There was a pause again—they were becoming fairly regular in Sain's life today.

"You don't know that," he said.

"If it's not true, why did you take so long to think about it?"

Kent was _smirking._ Kent wasn't the type to smirk, but he was _smirking._

When Sain could find no words to say to him, he turned and walked off.

"Good day, Sain!" he called.

"Er . . . uh . . . good day," Sain called, trying his very best not to sound spiteful or go into a cursing fit. Why was it that whenever they argued, Kent always won?

He stormed back toward the main camp. He needed to find a woman to flirt with and compliment, and he needed to find one _fast._ Talking to women always lightened his mood, especially when he came off the wrong end of an argument with Kent.

Perhaps Lady Lyndis had returned to camp by now. Or perhaps Fiora or Farina were in the camp. If all else failed, he could talk to Priscilla or Isadora again.

"Oi, you, worm-bait!"

He turned to see a heavily armored warrior beside a dark wyvern, tossing something up and down in one hand.

"This yours?"

The warrior threw it at him. Sain fumbled to catch it and lifted it up. It was the "Make Love, Not War" pin that someone had given him ages ago as a joke.

"Why yes, it is," he muttered, tucking it into his pack.

"It fell off your saddle," the warrior said. "You're lucky I didn't let Umbriel eat it like he wanted to, or you'd be covered in wyvern vomit right about now."

"Well, thank you very much," Sain said. "I owe you a debt, kind sir."

The warrior's dark eyes glinted. "What did you just call me?"

"Kind sir . . . ?" Sain looked up and down the warrior, realizing something was very amiss.

It was then that he saw the slight curve of the warrior's chest, and swore very quietly as she leapt onto her wyvern, lance at the ready.

"Umbriel! Attack!"

His screams could have been heard by the rest of the troupe from miles away.


End file.
